Sondra Gotlieb: A day at Pearson Airport (for a few days in New York)

A day at Pearson Airport (for a few days in New York)

There is nothing better than a few days in New York in the spring. Others have their spirits lifted by a hike in Algonquin Park but for us a walk in Central Park, a visit to the Met and a good play or two have been an essential trip every May. After all, New York is only an hour’s plane trip away. In theory.

Our plane was supposed to leave at noon and the weather forecast for New York was 80 degrees Fahrenheit. So I took light clothes and wore a sweater, even though it was hot in Toronto. When we got to the airport the plane was delayed an hour, which is par for the course.

“It’s because we’re going to Newark,” I said to Allan “instead of La Guardia. I hate Newark. Why did you make those reservations?”

It is my habit to blame Allan because he likes to be Mr. Control and prefers me to leave tasks like plane reservations to him.

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“Newark is a longer taxi ride,” I started in again but then they announced the flight was cancelled. But no big deal, there was going to be another United Airways plane with a different number in two more hours. We had arrived two hours in advance because of security, so we were really getting used to what the airport looked like. I remember the time when going to New York meant being at the airport about a half-hour before the flight.

So we sat around the scruffy part of Pearson doing what I love best — staring at the rest of the people dressed in their worst. The worst of worst are the older, heavier people who wear shorts, sport bare toes and have their I ❤ NY T-shirts already on.

In my experience at Pearson airport, only small planes go to New York, Cleveland, Chicago and other U.S. stops. It is a far nicer airport than La Guardia or Newark, but the small planes leave in a makeshift add-on area at Pearson that cannot compare to the sleek and contemporary halls, which are reserved for people waiting for the big planes going to Paris or Hong Kong. But all that doesn’t matter because the new flight number is called. We are only four hours late. The plane taxis on the tarmac for takeoff. Then there is an ominous dwindling sound coming from the engines while we wait. Finally the pilot announces that we’re still waiting for the “wings-up” signal so we may as well relax, play with our devices and the hostesses will offer a little water.

Quite a bit of time goes by and now everybody is wondering how long United can legally keep us on the plane. Not more than another hour, surely. Then it is announced that we are returning to the airport and snack vouchers and flight information will be given out at the United desk inside. We had arrived at 10 a.m. and it is now about 4 p.m.

“Let’s go home,” I said. But Mr. Control said no, we have a hotel room waiting for us in New York. “Too late to cancel it now.”

We have no information why we can’t fly so the rumour mill is at work amidst the chaos. Weather was given as a reason (which in fact was correct) but I heard a lot of nasty things about air traffic controllers and the abuse we passengers have to take from the airlines.

Most of the passengers lined up for snack vouchers. If you wanted some hard information about getting to Newark you were out of luck. There were frantic people who had to make connections in Newark for Germany who stood at the end of various lines just to find out if they were right line to ask about connections.

“There is nothing to do except wait,” Allan pronounced. Somebody from United thought there might be a plane leaving for Newark later in the evening. We boarded again at 8 p.m. (and I had wanted to make dinner reservations in New York). The plane taxied on the tarmac and then the engine began that familiar dwindling sound again.

“We haven’t got our wings-up signal,” the pilot announced. “You can play with your devices.” After an hour the wings went up and we arrived in New York around midnight, a mere 12 hours or so after leaving our home.

New York was wonderful except the weather dropped 30F. while we were there and I spent much of my time looking for warm clothes. New York is for shopping, isn’t it? We saw two plays I can’t recommend, and we did go for that walk in Central Park on a pleasant Sunday in May.